


Charlie Barber Intern Series: Complications (Part III)

by MarieSackler



Category: Marriage Story (2019)
Genre: Actor - Freeform, Adam Driver - Freeform, Angst, Charlie Barber - Freeform, Divorce, Drinking, F/M, Heartbreak, Romance, Slow Burn, The Marriage Story - Freeform, Theater - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:21:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24930697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieSackler/pseuds/MarieSackler
Summary: Charlie and Mia (Intern) struggle to find a common ground in their 'secret' relationship.Mia wants more and Charlie can't give it to her.Things start to take a turn for the worst.Part Three in the Charlie Barber Intern Series
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12
Collections: The Intern Series: A Charlie Barber Fanfiction





	Charlie Barber Intern Series: Complications (Part III)

I hadn't heard from Charlie for over a week. The theater was closed for extensive cleaning; the staff was on vacation. Charlie was in Los Angeles with Henry. He was not comfortable having Henry fly alone and it was close to the holidays; Nicole had the right to see her son.

I had been seeing Charlie for four months. Four months since our explosive night at the wrap party. The breakdown of pent up sexual aggression and emotions that ended in us fucking the night away.

It was not the easiest situation to be involved in; I was feeling the strain. We had a couple of wonderful weeks together. We ate Chinese on the floor of my living room, he read me sonnets in bed. And the sex, the sex was mind-blowing and frequent. This ended when Henry returned from his out of town visit with Nicole's family. Nicole; the ex-wife.The ex-wife who knew nothing about me.

No one knew about me. Charlie wasn't comfortable revealing our 'coupling' to the outside world; this also included the theater company. My best friends on the other hand were quite aware of Charlie and hated the entire situation. I hesitantly agreed to keep things quiet because I was ridiculously enamored by him.

The arrangement was starting to feel dirty despite Charlie being divorced. We were moving into four months of this and I was tired of getting him in pieces. Twenty minutes before the actors arrived for rehearsals, two hours randomly on nights that Charlie could find someone to watch Henry. He was untrusting of people around Henry since he gained full custody. I think he was partly afraid that any mistake would cause Nicole to swoop in and take Henry away.

The two weeks leading up to when he left for Los Angeles was particularly challenging. I was putting a lot of pressure on him to be attentive and he was pulling away.

The theater had just cleared out. I walked the back row of seats, antsy to get Charlie alone. After what seemed like hours, he looked up at me and motioned me to come down to him. He met me at the bottom of the stairs; wrapping his arms around me, he kissed my forehead. He smelled so good; just touching him sent a wave of warmth through my body. I buried my nose into his chest. I couldn't let my anger fade away. This is what happened every time I got the courage to confront him. I felt my body tighten and I gently pushed him away from me. He frowned and looked puzzled.

"What?"

I walked to the main floor.

"What's the matter?" he asked as he followed me.

"Don't! Keep your distance. I need to be able to get this out and I don't need you mucking my brain up."

"Okay." He put his hands up and took a seat; looking suddenly tense.

My heart ached at his worried expression. I did not want to hurt him. The man had already been through many pains over the last two years. The divorce of his marriage, a custody battle, loss of a major theater production, financial hardship due to lawyer fees.

He had to move from his nice Brooklyn apartment to a significantly smaller place. He was full of new insecurities and worries. The last thing he needed was me, coming in his life and making it harder. It was time to put things into perspective. It was time to call it if things were going to remain difficult. I wasn't a toy that you could just pick up and put down whenever you wanted.

Charlie raised his eyebrows at my silence.

"I hate the way things are." I could hear my voice shake and I balled my hands up; my fingernails digging into my palms. Charlie pressed his lips together.

"I need more, Charlie. I thought I would be okay, I thought I could do this for a while but here we are and I am miserable. I hate not being able to touch you when I want. I am not asking for you to march me down the streets of New York but I need more of you. I need more between us. It's been four months."

Charlie rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his dark hair. Sighing; he folded his hands on his lap.

"I told you what I am able to give; I specifically explained the delicacy of my life. Henry, the theater, Nicole. It's all a delicate juggling act."

I shook my head. The anger was building in the pit of my stomach.

"So, that's it then? You can't even budge an inch for me? So, was this a rebound for you then?" My voice cut through the air. I could see his nostrils flare at the comment. He remained seated.

"You know that it is more than that."

I wanted to scream. He was so composed; I wanted to slap him across the face. I knew that this conversation would be pointless.

"Okay, Charlie. Well, I am not asking for a lot here. I am asking for more time. I want more time and maybe I want to not run away from you when people are around. You've fucked me over a table for Christ's sake and I am hiding two rows away from you, being a good little intern."

Charlie lifted his hand and waved it in the air.

"You knew how this was going to be; I told you very specifically the boundaries and limitations that I had when getting involved with you. I told you I didn't need any ammo from Nicole about instability. I didn't need any complications with the theater after all the fucking chaos that ensued during the divorce. Henry is a delicate boy. He needs a lot of attention." Sighing, his arm dropped to his lap, his face suddenly wearied.

I could feel the tears behind my eyes. I hated seeing him upset. I went to him; kneeled and intertwined our hands.

"I am not trying to be difficult," I whispered. He bit his lower lip, his sad eyes scanning my face.

"I am also not trying to be difficult" Cupping a hand under my chin, he leaned forward and pressed his lips softly to mine.

I knew that the night would end with us heading to his small office; fucking on the small loveseat that he bought for just that reason. He would then lie on my chest, talking about how beautiful I was and all these wonderful ideas for trips together.

This would last for an hour before he would realize the time and need to leave and relieve the babysitter. I would watch him go and then clean myself up in the theater bathroom; not looking at myself in the mirror because I wouldn't want to see how foolish I was. I would end the night sitting alone in my bed streaming shitty tv.

I sat in the back of the theater, watching everyone else file in; laughing and whipping off their jackets and purses. Why was I here? I did not want to talk to anyone. I wanted to be in my apartment, drinking wine, and listening to loud music; I did not want to see Charlie.

It had been four days since our last real conversation. He was in full director mode; the production opened soon. He needed everything to be finalized. It did not help our situation. He was not a phone person, so texts and phone calls were sparse. Henry was home in the evenings and Charlie devoted 100% of his time to him; not leaving much time left for many activities afterward.

Picking at my script, I fought the urge to run from the room. Charlie wouldn't be there for at least another 10 minutes; I could easily make it out of there before having to see him. My legs started to shake as the lead actress caught my eye from across the room and smiled. I nodded in response. She did exactly what I was afraid of; she started to walk towards me. This was going to really mess up my bolting plan. Causally, she plopped herself down in the seat in front of me.

"Hey, so how are you feeling for the production; I mean from a critical standpoint."

I tried not to roll my eyes at her attempt; she was very carefully pointing out that I was not actually in the production.

"Well, I think it will go great. Everyone has their lines down; Charlie is perfect as usual."

Forcing myself to smile, I glanced down at my cell phone. I had exactly 4 minutes if I paced myself.

"Oh, shit I gotta go make a call." Waiving the cell phone up in the air, I snatched up my bag and quickly exited the stage area. I had made it into the street and serendipitously, ran right into Charlie. He had his hands full of coffees as he usually does before rehearsals; he was startled.

"Mia? What are you doing?" His face now stern; this only infuriated me. Was he really going to lecture me?

"I gotta go. I had something come up and I am not going to make rehearsal tonight." I stared him hard in the face. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"Really? This close before opening and you've got to leave? Can it wait?"

"No, it cannot wait. It's an emergency." I lied. I did not feel guilty about it. It was an emergency; I was on the verge of an emotional meltdown. Charlie pressed his lips together.

"Okay, is there anything I can do?" He did not seem convinced.

"Nope, I am all set. Good luck, she's got her lines down perfectly. You won't miss me." Charlie rolled his eyes and sighed.

"I see. Alright, well check in with me later; so, I know that you are okay. Please." A lot was being left unsaid. I quickly turned around and walked towards the subway.

The bar was relatively full but not crowded enough to be uncomfortable. I was nursing my fifth or sixth beer, they started to blur after the fourth. I knew that it was a bad idea to be drinking in my heightened state but I didn't care. I knew the cast wouldn't be here tonight because it was Friday and they dispersed to their respective corners of the night scene on the weekends.

The bartender was eying me at this point. I didn't plan on many more and was contemplating requesting an Uber. I was staring at my beer when the overwhelming smell of whiskey washed over me.

I looked to my side, to the man, scooting himself on the stool next to me. He was reminiscent of the '20s; white collar and vest. Turning his face and looking into my eyes, I was taken back. He had striking, crystal, blue eyes. Smiling, he nodded in a greeting.

"Why hello." A soft Irish accent resonated in his voice. He was ridiculously handsome; like a Hollywood movie star handsome.

"Hi" The beer was making my thoughts foggy. I could not sit here with this man; not in my condition. He reached over and extended his hand out; I hesitated but slid my hand into his; he squeezed gently and smiled.

"It's Cillian. You?" I was suddenly speechless. Why was I acting like such an idiot?

"Mia" I replied.

Cillian smirked and nodded again.

"Nice, to meet you Mia." He tipped his whiskey towards my beer.

"Can I buy your next one?"

I knew that the answer should be 'no' but I heard myself say 'sure'. He grabbed my glass and tipped it towards the bar, requested a refill, and turned back to me.

"So, what do you do Mia?" He sipped his whiskey; I couldn't stop staring into his eyes. Who had eyes like this?

"I am in theater." I said flatly wishing that my brain would stop screaming at me that what I was doing was wrong.

"Oh yeah? Like Broadway? Are you a star?" He asked; his lip curled in a smile. I couldn't help but return the smile.

"No, I wish but no. I am the standard, struggling New York actress." Cillian inched a bit closer to me.

"Hmm. Well, you certainly aren't standard looking."

He was flirting with me. This incredibly attractive, Irish man was flirting with me as I drowned my sorrows in beer. I wanted to laugh and brush my fingers on his arm, maybe let him kiss my neck and have him run his hand up my leg. I wanted to do all of this because of Charlie.

Because I couldn't do this with Charlie; we weren't allowed to have public displays of affection. My heart ached at the thoughts; I was definitely drunk. I laughed off the compliment and waved the bartender down for water. I needed to go home. Cillian's eyebrows raised at my request and grinned to himself. He took out a business card and dropped it by my glass.

"If you want to have drinks sometime. I can see you aren't into company tonight but I'd fancy a get together if you are interested." He spoke softly; taking a sip of his drink. I smiled and put the card in my back pocket.

"Yeah, maybe." I tried to sound neutral to the idea; Cillian looked past and me and tilted his head. I turned to Charlie standing next to me; his face was drawn and his eyes black. My head was floating in alcohol and suddenly I was unable to put my thoughts together. He looked at Cillian then to the bar.

"Let me pay for the tab." Charlie said pointing down at me.

"Already got it, Mate." Cillian interrupted and waived off the bartender. Charlie scowled and grabbed my arm to go.

"Thanks," Charlie said looking at Cillian.

"I was happy to help." He responded smiling. Charlie pulled me towards the door and out into the night.

"What the fuck? Mia!" He said throwing my arm down and pacing the sidewalk. My stomach was flipping and my head was dizzy. I could not fight with him right now.

"Can you bring me home? Please?" I pleaded and pressed my fingers into my temple. Charlie continued to pace.

"Yeah, if you tell me what the fuck you are doing? You didn't text me to let me know how your quote, emergency went. I showed up at your house, worried, to not find you there. I tried your cell phone; it went straight to voice-mail. So, I called your emergency contact on your staff form. Your sister! She said you were fine and out. So, my best guess was here." He abruptly stopped and stared at me; red-faced and winded.

"And I find you here, drunk, sitting with some fucking British guy." He shouted. I felt myself slowly moving towards the ground; crouching, I shook my head.

"Stop yelling." I moaned. Charlie's face twisted in anger.

"You are wasted. You are wasted and kneeling on the sidewalk. This is what you chose to do with your night? This? Instead of being with me, at the theater, working on our production? Fucking, ridiculous."

I felt Charlie's hands under my arms, lifting and leaning me up against him. He dialed for a cab. We stood in silence; Charlie avoiding all eye contact but he never stopped holding me.


End file.
